


inside, a silver glow

by rahmiel



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Don’t copy to another site, M/M, Supernatural Elements, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-03 01:32:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19453603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rahmiel/pseuds/rahmiel
Summary: Kakashi's been waking up in a new body every day since he turned eighteen. He hasn't entertained the idea of romance at all -- the life he lives, lonely though it is, is still comfortable. One day, however, he sees Iruka, and suddenly his life of comfort seems like nothing compared to what he could have in the future -- if only he takes a chance.





	inside, a silver glow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tmo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmo/gifts).



> Dear tmo,   
> thank you so much for sending such wonderful prompts! I thoroughly enjoyed myself writing this, and I took the liberty of combining aspects of two romance movies with supernatural elements -- "The Beauty Inside" and "Stardust". I really hope you like what I wrote!
> 
> Huge thanks to my lovely beta Pastles and everyone else who read through this and helped me polish it nicely.
> 
> Thank you, and enjoy reading!

“Kakashi,” Guy says, pulling back the curtains in Kakashi’s room. Light spills in and Kakashi squints against it, shielding himself with his hand. It's old and wrinkled today, and he thinks it matches his mood quite nicely. He feels withered. 

In fact, the only thing he can actually make out is the light in the room and the pain in his joints. Today’s body has cataracts  _ and _ arthritis — "There's no way you can work on anything in this body, Kakashi," Guy confirms Kakashi's suspicions after helping him up — so he's set to go to a furniture store to pick up the handles he ordered, instead of working on his current project. 

"You are ahead of schedule, so we should be fine even if you take a rest today, old man," Guy says and Kakashi rolls his eyes. It must look hilarious, judging by Guy's joyful laughter, and he cracks a smile back. Evidently a mistake: he seems to be missing most of his teeth too. Guy doubles over. 

Thankfully, the numerous contraptions he's acquired over the years help him sort out the eyes and teeth problem. Kakashi puts on a pair of glasses from his glasses drawer that makes him see something more than just blurry outlines, and shuffles to the bathroom and walk-in closet. 

Now, where could his fake teeth possibly be? 

This condition of Kakashi's was definitely a curse, damn it — no matter what that fairy had said, something about him finding true love and this teaching him the biggest life lesson — why is he forced to put in dentures when he's only  _ twenty-seven _ ? He can't even go and have a normal one night stand, only quick fucks in the bathroom of seedy clubs, and even those are rare occurrences. 

Guy actually agrees with what the fairy had said — and there  _ had been _ a fairy, Kakashi is sure of it. He may have been hungover on the morn of his eighteenth birthday, but Kakashi has never hallucinated. There had been a fairy hovering next to his head and squeaking in his ear, explaining the situation: that he had been chosen to learn something valuable, and that in ten years' time, his prophecy would come true. True love and all that jazz — but Kakashi had been a very, very cynical teenager, and he'd found it easier to believe that fairies and magic exist, rather than true love — although, there was no way to deny their existence either. If the fact that his body changes every single night isn't enough of an indicator that magic of some kind exists, Kakashi doesn't know what would be. 

So, his traitorous friend Guy, the only friend Kakashi has, really — after a period of time wherein Kakashi had avoided every single person except his father — had come to see Kakashi, only to find his white hair and lanky form replaced by a petite girl with green eyes and dirty blond hair. And his traitorous friend Guy, after hearing Kakashi's story three times and subsequently laughing harder each time, had  _ agreed _ that the spell — no, curse — the fairy had placed on Kakashi would definitely help change Kakashi's bitter outlook on life. 

_ Nine years _ , Kakashi thinks as he browses through the furniture shop. Nine years have passed since then and still no sign of that godforsaken prophecy. Nine years of waking up and knowing that no one will recognize him, that if he got lost one day Guy would have no way of finding him. 

There's a certain comfort to that knowledge too, the fact that he could disappear whenever he wanted. Kakashi could even resort to crime and live a lavish life, if he so chooses, but he would never do that to Guy. Not after the man has spent his whole life being Kakashi's friend: one must have something wrong with them too in order to achieve such a feat, since Kakashi's weird even beyond the whole "I wake up in a new body every day" thing. 

Kakashi's looking at a set of particularly odd lamps when his phone rings. He answers in today's shaky grandfather voice. "Yes?" 

"Don't come home early. There has been an accident."

"Guy," Kakashi tries for a warning tone, but it doesn't sound too convincing. "What did you do?" 

"Remember how I tried to install a pull-up bar… yes, well, the pull-up bar may have failed to handle my weight, and…” Kakashi loathes to ask for a follow up explanation, so he just sighs.

“Alright, I’ll take my time. I might stop by and buy some Icha Icha in this body. Just to see the cashier’s face, you know,” he says, hearing Guy’s indignant squawking about setting good examples to youth even after he’s removed the phone from his ear, and hangs up.

The person looking at the lamps next to him shoots Kakashi a worried look. Kakashi grins, and his teeth almost slip out.

Man, being old is  _ hard. _

He busies himself looking around the store, taking note of the new pieces and what’s popular now, and when he nears the other side he hears two soft, hushed voices. An elderly lady is sitting in a comfortable looking chair — Kakashi could use sitting on that, what with his joints aching — and a young man, maybe in his mid-twenties, crouching next to it and talking to her. He’s wearing the store uniform shirt and his hair is tied back in a ponytail. 

At first, Kakashi doesn’t notice it, too lost in thought about finally getting the handles he’s ordered now that he found the employee, but it’s hard to miss after ten seconds of staring. The man, smiling gently at the woman, is  _ glowing. _

Maybe Kakashi’s eyes are giving out. This body is old, and though the original Kakashi did not hallucinate, maybe this version of him does. He shifts position, going along the shelf and moving to the next one. Then he peeks back at the man.

No, he’s still glowing. Kakashi rubs his eyes. 

“...pleasant, yes, and extremely comfortable,” the woman’s voice floats up to Kakashi. “You’ve really done me a great service here,” she says, smiling at the man. 

The silver glow around him shifts and then becomes stronger. 

To Kakashi, this is a sight to behold: dark brown hair and brown skin, the gentle curve of full lips, expressive eyes and hands that have a strong grip on the chair — all glowing, as if backlit by the moon in an otherwise inky black night. 

He gulps and looks away, belatedly realizing that he’s been staring. It wouldn’t do any good to get caught and dubbed a creep. Although his appearance may change, Kakashi would still remember the incident and be so embarrassed by it that it will haunt him in his dreams, so he doesn’t want to risk it. Not that Kakashi has any qualms being called a creep in any other situation — he does read Icha Icha in public — but facing someone so beautiful, so ethereal… The idea of ruining the moment is abhorrent. 

Kakashi’s heart is thumping, and he needs to sit down before it goes out. Distractedly, he lets his hand slide off the shelf it’s been resting on and walks towards the chairs section of the store, where he plops down, mind whirring. 

That man, whatever he is, he’s not just human — he’s also  _ magic. _

He doesn’t notice that he’s been sitting there for a while, staring off into space, not until the worker approaches him with that same, calm expression on his face. This time, though, there’s no glow, and Kakashi’s grateful for it, because he feels like his grandfather heart wouldn’t be able to handle seeing that up close.

“Are you doing alright?” the man asks, and he’s finally close enough for Kakashi to read his nametag.  _ Iruka.  _

Iruka, the glowing furniture store employee. Kakashi loves him already. 

"Yes," he manages, curving his eyes into what he hopes is an alright-looking smile. "Just got a little tired."

"Are you looking for something in particular?" Iruka asks. 

After a moment's thought, Kakashi nods. "A comfortable chair would be nice. For… reading. I read a lot, and I would also like it to have nice armrests… for my bad joints, yes." Crap, that sounded horrible. 

Iruka just smiles at Kakashi and extends a hand to help him up. Kakashi's about to protest but then remembers he probably looks like he  _ does _ need help getting up, so he accepts the offer. Iruka's hand is warm and rough, slightly calloused, and Kakashi enjoys the feeling.

It's as if that glow has captured Kakashi in a trance from which he's never going to manage to get out of. 

Iruka leads Kakashi to a different chair and helps him down. "How's that? This one has adjustable armrests, so you can change their height as you please. Its back is padded with memory foam for ultimate comfort," he says with a professional smile. Kakashi cannot help but be charmed. Iruka must make lots of sales like this. 

Kakashi smiles back, shuffling down in the seat. "Young man, if I fall asleep in this, you won't blame me, will you?" 

Iruka laughs. And then he glows. 

Kakashi doesn't want to leave. 

—

"You didn't get the handles?" 

"No."

Guy groans.  _ "Kakashi, _ this is a wasted day then!" 

“I think I’m in love,” Kakashi sighs.

Guy stops in his tracks, hand stilling from where he’s been typing on his phone. “You what?”

“Think I’m in love,” Kakashi nods, serious expression on his face.

“In love,” Guy repeats, staring at the ceiling above Kakashi’s bed. “You fell in love while you were at the furniture store?”

Kakashi humms, thinking about Iruka. “He was glowing, Guy,  _ glowing. _ I don’t know why or how but he’s different, just like I am. You should have seen that smile. He helped me and this other old lady,” Kakashi says dreamily, “and I think it’s fate. This is just like Icha Icha.”

After a while of puzzled contemplation, Guy grins. “My bestest of youthful friends! You must go back there tomorrow, and do something about this newfound blossoming feeling in your soul! If it is as you say, then this is the sign you’ve been waiting for,” he says with a pointed stare. 

“You mean the prophecy?”

“Yes, my dear companion! It has been nine years, and you had ten. I believe it is time.”

“What do you know?”

Guy grins sheepishly. “Honestly, you need to go back to the store anyway. I broke the door.”

—

Kakashi’s a short, dark haired girl the next day, and he has to come up with a story as to how he’s broken the door. 

It proves difficult to do so while he’s staring at Iruka’s mesmerising expression. His thoughts run off wondering why and when exactly Iruka glows. He seemed to be glowing whenever he looked pleased with himself, which is Kakashi’s best guess.

Blinking, Kakashi smiles. “I’m here to pick up an order for the golden brass handles in Guy’s name.” Iruka nods, moving to check for the order in a notebook on the desk, looking up when Kakashi speaks up again. “Oh, and… Do you sell complete door frames or wood for them?”

He doesn’t have to explain why he’s looking for that, though, because Iruka doesn’t ask. Instead, he’s as helpful as ever, and in no time Kakashi’s armed with an order confirmation slip and his wallet is considerably lighter. 

Kakashi isn’t pleased, though. If anything, he wonders what else he can break around the house so he has an excuse to come back tomorrow. It’s a bit creepy, but he wants to make sure that he knows when Iruka comes in to work, too, to be certain he’s going to see him.

He tries his best to look bashful, and peeks up at Iruka through his eyelashes. “Um… when are you usually at work? I’ve been here a couple of times so far, and… none of the other employees are as nice as you are.” Thank god Kakashi’s a girl today because this would have looked extremely weird on his shriveled up grandfather face.

Iruka laughs, flushing slightly, and rubs the back of his head. The red tint of his cheeks is juxtaposed with the silver glow that slowly forms around him, and Kakashi is once more taken aback by how outrageously attractive Iruka is. 

“Ah, I am here every weekday from 9 in the morning to 5 in the afternoon. You can come in anytime, I’d be happy to help.”

Kakashi’s sure he will.

—

“But it makes sense, right? If no one else has ever said anything about that glowing thing — and  _ I  _ haven’t ever seen him glow either — then it must be only you who’s seeing that. I’m telling you, Kakashi. This guy’s it.”

Guy’s been trying to convince Kakashi that all of this is alright and not increasingly weird after the fifth time Kakashi has gone to see Iruka. 

"It just seems like it's leading nowhere," Kakashi sighs. "Can you imagine someone coming up to you and telling you that they change bodies every day, but would still like to give dating a shot?" 

Guy nods with a hopeful expression, and Kakashi runs a palm over his face (today a busty, blond haired woman). This is Guy in question. Kakashi should have expected that answer. 

"Still, it's not like I can just go up to him and tell him straight away, is it?" 

"No, but you can ask him out and see where it goes from there. What if something happens, and you never see him again? You will regret letting this chance slip through your fingers for the rest of your life, dear friend.”

Kakashi rolls his eyes and smacks Guy’s shoulder. “What could possibly happen? I have time.”

It turns out that Kakashi does not, actually, have time. 

The next day, when in passing he asks how long Iruka’s worked there, Iruka tells him it’s been two years. “Oh, but I’ll be leaving soon. It’s a shame, but I got offered a much better job downtown,” Iruka says, and then giggles. “Don’t tell my supervisors this, though.”

Kakashi will never be able to explain, with concise wording, how the panic that rushes through him at that moment feels. “When… when will you be leaving?”

“Oh, I just put in my two weeks notice. So by the end of the month,” Iruka says, ever cheerful.

Kakashi rushes home where Guy’s sitting on the floor, polishing the cupboard with the golden brass handles, and he starts pacing.

“So you were right, I don’t have any time.”

Guy thinks for a moment, and the only sounds in the room are Kakashi’s footsteps and the calming, scraping sound of sandpaper on wood. “I propose that you wait until your looks have changed to something you deem acceptable and representative of yourself,” he says after a while. 

“What if that doesn’t happen by the end of next week?” Kakashi asks, still panicked.

Guy sighs. “If it doesn’t, you’ll just go and tell him.”

“I don’t think that’s going to end well,” Kakashi deadpans.

“Maybe, maybe not. You still must try your luck,” Guy winks reassuringly.

—

It’s only two days later that Kakashi wakes up in a body that’s similar to how he used to look, if slightly stockier. He has white hair and when he grins, he looks a bit feral. He supposes that’s as good as it’s going to get — this way, he doesn’t feel as much of a fraud and like he’s lying to Iruka’s face about who he is. Which is ridiculous, because if he’s learned  _ anything _ from this whole ordeal, it’s that Kakashi himself is more than just his bodies. 

When he walks into the store his heart is thumping like never before, so much so that he’s afraid he’ll go lightheaded from it. He sees Iruka with a customer and decides to hang around, observe the mood Iruka’s in. Maybe today’s not his day, and Kakashi doesn’t want to ruin his chances.

Iruka seems fine, however, and Kakashi realizes he’s only looking for an excuse to turn on his heel and run the other way. This is it, then — he straightens his spine, schools his expression into something less apprehensive and more open, and approaches Iruka.

“Oh, hello there,” Iruka turns to regard Kakashi, “I haven’t seen you here before.”

_ Come on, Kakashi, come on, say something — some pick up line from Icha Icha, how beautiful his eyes are — _ “No, this is the first time I’ve come here. I just saw you through the window… and I couldn’t help but be captivated by you.”

“By me?” Iruka stutters, red blooming across his cheeks. Kakashi notices in dejection that there is no glow around the man. 

"Ah, yes," says Kakashi, losing his frantic momentum and rubbing his head in embarrassment. 

"Why… Thank you," Iruka says and looks away. In his hands, Kakashi notices he's holding a slip of paper. He was probably going to get some order. 

"Am I getting in the way of your work?" Kakashi asks. 

With a pained expression, Iruka nods and gestures towards the paper. 

"That's… No problem. How about grabbing dinner with me after your shift ends?" Kakashi offers. For a long moment, he's only met with silence. 

Aa far as it goes, Kakashi has been in some funny situations before. He's gone through the whole ordeal of buying condoms, he's done walks of shame, he's broken things in public places — no biggie, right? Right. But he's fairly sure that  _ nothing _ so far has been as painfully, wretchedly unenviable and downright  _ awkward _ as this. Iruka looks like he's about to spontaneously combust in flames, and Kakashi can't help but share the sentiment. All he can do is helplessly grin that slightly feral grin this body has provided him with and hope for the best. 

Glancing around, as if not wanting to be heard, Iruka leans in towards Kakashi. He starts whispering in a scathing tone. "Why are you hitting on me in the workplace?" he hisses. "There's a time and place for this, you know!"

Cold dread washes over Kakashi, intermingling with a vague sense of amusement in the back of his head. He tries to channel that and hope he doesn't look sick to the bone when he says, "I'm trying to  _ make _ a time and place to hit on you."

Iruka squints at Kakashi. He stares for what must be thirty seconds and Kakashi can practically hear the gears whirring in Iruka's head. 

"Go down the street to the ramen shop. You'll know it when you see it. Tell Teuchi that Iruka asks for the spicy special." Iruka turns his back to Kakashi, walking away. A second later, he speaks again. "My shift ends at five. You're buying." Kakashi grins. 

It’s four thirty — Kakashi had made sure to arrive around Iruka’s closing time, so he wouldn’t have to wait too long. Granted, he’d wanted to get there at four, but panic overwhelmed him for a while and he spent half an hour pacing in the park right across the street. 

He follows Iruka’s instructions to the ramen place, now, and when he arrives, an old man with a kind smile greets him. The moment Kakashi mentions Iruka, the old man’s smile — Teuchi, Kakashi remembers — widens. 

Kakashi leaves the shop having paid only half the price, a small smile dancing on his lips too. Teuchi had hummed and told Kakashi about how often Iruka comes here with his nephew. Kakashi makes a note to ask about said nephew later.

When he arrives back at the furniture store, it’s just in time to catch Iruka locking the door and pulling the protective bars down. Iruka sees Kakashi and snorts.

“Teuchi rubbed off on you, huh? You have the goofy grin everyone has after talking to him.”

Kakashi nods and hands Iruka the bag with the ramen containers. “He seems like a very nice person. He mentioned your nephew.”

“Oh, yes. My nephew is unforgettable. Now, to the point,” Iruka says curtly. “What’s your name? How do I know you’re not here to kill me?” Kakashi starts, but Iruka cuts him off. “If you are, I can defend myself. It’s not going to be easy. Just get to it. If you  _ aren’t, _ though, best tell me your name.”

With a slight note of humor ringing in his voice, Kakashi answers. “Kakashi Hatake. I own a furniture business with Guy Might… You may have heard of it. I’m really not here to kill you. I just — you —” he stumbles.

Iruka looks away, but Kakashi can see the edge of a grin. “Ah, alright, you’re cute. I suppose I have nothing to lose here,” he says and goes to sit on a bench. Kakashi tentatively sits next to Iruka and takes the offered meal. 

They sit and talk for three hours. Iruka tells Kakashi about his nephew, Naruto, and how he’d taken custody of him after his parents had died. He glows when he talks about Naruto, and Kakashi can’t help but fall a little bit more in love. Kakashi tells Iruka about his job, what he truly loves about it — the fact that he gets to experience all the different angles of humanity, how he tries to put himself in the shoes of every customer he designs furniture for — leaving out the miniscule detail that what provides him with such insight is that he changes bodies every day, of course.

They talk about their lives in the broadest sense of the word. Iruka doesn’t offer much more personal information, and Kakashi still doesn’t know his surname, but he’s alright with that. 

By the end of their —  _ date? Is this a date? _ — dinner, Iruka starts faintly glowing. It’s nothing compared to the strong bursts of silver Kakashi has witnessed before, but it’s steady. It’s a faint fuzzy outline, always there in the corner of Kakashi’s eye. He wants to reach out and touch it, and his fingers twitch with the urge to do so, but Iruka is watching him and Kakashi doesn’t dare.

“What are you looking at me like that for?” Iruka asks, and Kakashi is made aware of how truly perceptive Iruka is. 

“How am I looking at you?”

“Like I have something on my face.”

Kakashi grins. “Yes, you have beauty on it.” 

Iruka snorts and blushes, rubbing his nose. “I didn’t think cheesy lines like that would work on me.”

“So they  _ do _ work on you?” Kakashi prods, satisfied.

“Considering I’m about to do this, yes, they probably do,” Iruka says and rummages through his pockets, only to take out a pen and paper. He scribbles down a number on it and hands it to Kakashi, standing up after Kakashi takes the slip and stretching his legs. “Hey, Kakashi,” Iruka says, looking down with a smug expression. “Thanks for dinner.”

—

Kakashi can’t believe it! He’s lying in bed, beyond himself with joy. He has Iruka’s number. Iruka gave his number to Kakashi willingly. Kakashi can text Iruka.  _ Should _ Kakashi text Iruka? 

Kakashi gets out of the bed to pace around the room.

He should. 

He shouldn’t.

He  _ should. _

The text is stupid, some unimportant observation Kakashi made about the furniture store. They end up texting back and forth for a while. Iruka mentions that he’s changing jobs soon and Kakashi makes a quip about how he’s lucky he found Iruka before then. 

They decide they’re going to get lunch the next day, too. 

The happiness Kakashi feels is more than enough to keep him awake throughout the night. He cannot go to sleep, because his body will change, and then he’ll have to start all over again — or admit his curse to Iruka right away, both of which are unacceptable. Kakashi stays awake, barraging Guy with texts and impressions from the date — how complex Iruka is, how nice and principled yet scathingly, unapologetically rude when he feels that those principles are threatened. It’s such a breath of fresh air for Kakashi, who’s only ever had superficial interactions with his objects of affection.

—

Lunch with Iruka the next day goes much the same as dinner the previous night did, although Kakashi is a bit jittery considering he’s downed shots of espresso beforehand in order to stay awake. This time, Kakashi gets Iruka’s surname — Umino. When he gets home, he says it out loud a couple of times, rolling it over his tongue. 

A pleasant surprise greets him in the afternoon, just around the time he’s started pacing again and wondering how to see Iruka tomorrow — he’s not sure he can stay awake for longer than three days. 

He gets a text from Iruka, asking to see him for dinner the next day. This time at a restaurant, though. A lot more like an actual date.

“Guy,” Kakashi calls his friend, after he’s done screaming into a pillow from the sheer giddiness he’s feeling, “can you get me some pale makeup? I need to cover up my eyebags tomorrow.”

“I will consult the wonderful ladies at the makeup store, of course. Nothing will stand in the way of your youthful love!” 

Kakashi’s a little wonky by the time he next sees Iruka, but is jostled awake immediately when he sees how wonderful Iruka looks. This is the first time Kakashi’s seen the man without his work clothes on — Iruka’s dressed in warm, earthy tones that blend in wonderfully with his skin. What’s most striking, though, is the contrast between Iruka himself and the glow that surrounds him as he waves in greeting to Kakashi. 

“Ready?” Iruka says, linking his arm with Kakashi’s and resolutely looking away. Kakashi’s grateful, because he’s blushing like a teenager, and they make their way to the restaurant Iruka picked.

It’s a nice place, if a bit unusual, with odd tapestries hanging on the walls and dim lighting, but Iruka seems to know the staff and they get seated immediately despite the line that’s steadily forming in front of the restaurant. Kakashi lets Iruka order for him and Iruka shoots him a pleased smirk. 

There’s something different tonight — something hanging in the air. That look, not the only look of its kind so far, accompanied by the casual but charged touches Iruka makes — Kakashi’s hand, his elbow, bumping their knees together — it means something, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Kakashi. The steady, thrumming glow around Iruka returns, and when Kakashi starts initiating touches too, it grows steadily stronger. 

By the end of their dinner their legs are in constant contact and Iruka’s hand rests so close to Kakashi’s that Kakashi can feel the warmth radiating off of it. When they get up, Iruka insists on buying, and Kakashi begrudgingly accepts. 

“Walk me home?” Iruka asks, looking up at Kakashi, blinking. 

Kakashi takes Iruka’s hand in his, and the glow brightens.

A while later, in Iruka’s apartment, when they’re sweaty and panting and Iruka’s hair is splayed on the pillow — dark streaks beautiful against the white of the cloth — the only light in the room is Iruka’s glow and the moonlight which caresses them in their embrace.

It’s too comfortable, and Kakashi’s so tired. For the first time in his life, he’s beyond consciously caring about the consequences. He lets himself for once fall asleep in someone’s arms, drifting easier than ever before into the realm of dreams.

—

Even though Kakashi wakes up before Iruka, he doesn’t realise his body has changed until a couple of minutes have passed. When he does, he’s so startled he ends up falling off the bed with an unfortunate loud thud and wakes Iruka up. 

In his panic, Kakashi doesn’t even have time to look at himself: he just does the only thing he can think of, which is crawl under the bed in shame. All that’s left for him to do now is hold out hope that Iruka will let him down gently.

Instead of immediately peeking down and barraging Kakashi with questions, though, Kakashi feels the bed shift above him, and Iruka’s feet rest on the ground in Kakashi’s field of view. There’s no way Iruka didn’t hear Kakashi crawling under the bed, so Iruka is doing that on purpose, giving Kakashi space. It’s so like what Kakashi has come to know of Iruka in the past couple of days that his heart aches, knowing he’ll have to let it go. But it’s for the best. There’s no way to get out of this situation without explaining everything, and Kakashi’s not delusional. 

Kakashi examines his hand and touches his face and hair, the best he can do while under the bed, if only to still his rapid heartbeat. His hair reaches his shoulders and it’s dark brown, his hand manicured but evidently not of a very young person. Kakashi’s best guess is that he looks like a businesswoman in her mid forties. 

“What’s wrong, Kakashi?” he hears Iruka say, his voice soft and patient. “I’ll give you time if you need some.”

There’s no way to get out. No way to get out, not without hurting Iruka, not without confusing him, none. 

Kakashi clears his throat and tries to make his voice sound as deep as he can manage, muffling it with his hand. “Could you give me my phone, please?” He fears his words were unintelligible but he stays silent, after that.

It seems that Iruka understood what Kakashi was trying to say, because Kakashi can see him getting up and searching the nightstand, and then gingerly placing the phone on the ground and nudging it under the bed. As if Kakashi’s a dog, or a child, which is probably the only rational way to approach the situation, Kakashi surmises. 

Moments pass. Kakashi grips the phone tight in his hand and tries to muster the courage to send a text, so he wouldn’t have to look at the way Iruka’s face falls when he realizes that Kakashi doesn’t look like the Kakashi Iruka met, and will never look like that again.

In order to break the ice, he sends a sticker.

He can hear Iruka’s phone ping from the other side of the room, and Iruka goes to retrieve it. Instead of answering him directly, though, Iruka sits with his back to Kakashi, leaning on the bed, and sends a text back, urging Kakashi to go on.

Finally, his heart still beating in his throat, Kakashi starts explaining. 

He recounts the morning of his eighteenth birthday, when he’d woken up in a different body — the horror and shock he’d felt, the disbelief. He tells Iruka about going to his father in a state of panic like never before, about hiding from Guy for weeks and their eventual reconnection. Iruka stays silent, so Kakashi goes on.

He tells Iruka about the different bodies he lives his life in, how he’s had to adapt over the years — the loneliness he feels, the fact that he craves touch and connection. He mentions how the only one he has now is Guy, and that no matter how much Kakashi may try, he just cannot look at Guy in a romantic light. He wouldn’t do that to their friendship in any case.

It’s easy to tell Iruka why he loves his job so much, now that the elephant in the room has been taken care of. He hopes that by explaining how awfully lonely he constantly feels he’ll at least get Iruka to understand why Kakashi allowed himself this little adventure of bland normalcy, of courting and dating, even if only for the short timespan of half a week. 

He expects screaming when he’s done. Maybe at least a little anger, resentment at the betrayal and ordeal Kakashi put Iruka through. Instead, he gets…  _ nothing, _ so far.

Simply silence.

It stretches far between them, filling the air, thick and imposing. 

Then, Iruka’s voice breaks it, shaky but not quiet. “How do I know it’s really you? Really the Kakashi I went on three dates with, who’s witty and charming and says awful pick up lines?”

In any other situation, Kakashi would tease Iruka for the compliments he gave, but even  _ Kakashi _ knows now is not the time and place for that, despite his ambiguous social competence. 

“I want proof,” Iruka continues. Kakashi still can’t see his face but Iruka’s tone doesn’t sound angry, and Kakashi breathes a sigh of relief. 

He clears his throat again and speaks. “Do you remember a teenage girl who asked for golden brass handles and a whole door frame?”

Iruka turns to look at Kakashi then, and his eyes widen in surprise, as if he really didn’t believe what Kakashi was saying until he saw and heard the body of a woman under his bed, where Kakashi’s previous body was supposed to be. Kakashi can’t blame him, really.

“I told you how nice you are compared to the other employees. A day before that, I was the old man who told you that he might fall asleep in the chair… And I could tell you everything about our dates. When you told me to go get ramen from Teuchi, and asked me if I’m there to kill you… Iruka, it really is me. I’m very sorry,” Kakashi says, looking straight at Iruka. After a beat, he asks, “Could you… give me something to cover up?”

In his panic, Kakashi completely forgot he’d fallen asleep with no clothes on. He isn’t about to crawl out from under the bed stark naked in this body — it just doesn’t feel right, all things considered. 

“Yes… Of course. To be honest,” Iruka chuckles, a bit nervously, “I thought you were pulling a prank. A very bad prank, but a prank nonetheless. I’ve done some pranks in my time, and I was thinking of how bored you must have been to come up with something like this. But I guess it’s the truth.” He pulls the sheet from the bed, handing it to Kakashi and then turning away. Kakashi shamefully crawls out and wraps it around himself.

“So… yeah. I better leave,” Kakashi says, looking down now and not meeting Iruka’s eyes. He moves to get his clothes from the previous night, which would look extremely weird on this body. “I understand, Iruka. It’s alright,” he says, smiling sadly down at the ground, and that’s when Iruka’s gentle hand on his shoulder stops him.

“Understand what? Who said you can leave?”

Saying Kakashi’s surprised at that moment is an understatement. 

“I’ve grown to like you, Kakashi. An irrational lot — for someone I’ve known for only three days — and someone that, it turns out, changes his body every night. It’s funny,” Iruka chuckles again, more confidently this time, “my friends kept telling me to be more adventurous and take more chances. Then I met you, and I thought to myself — well, here’s a chance I could take. It just turned out to be a lot more adventurous than I’d originally thought!” Iruka exclaims, laughing now.

“But… you want to keep dating me?” Kakashi says, perplexed. “Even though now I look like… this?” he gestures towards the body he’s occupying. “Iruka, in case you didn’t get this — my body changes every time I sleep. I turn into old men and small children. I don’t think that’s… viable.” A voice in Kakashi’s head which sounds a lot like Guy tells him so stop sabotaging his own chances. Kakashi shuts up.

“I don’t care how you look like, honestly. I swing both ways — and as for the elderly and children’s bodies you occupy, we just won’t see each other on those days.” A small smile dances on Iruka’s lips. “It will be fun, I think.”

“Fun?” Kakashi asks, still doubtful. “Iruka, please don’t do this out of pity.”

Iruka rolls his eyes. “It’s not pity. It’s an adventure.”

— 

It has been a month. 

It has been a month, and it has been the most wondrous month in Kakashi’s existence so far. Every time he sees Iruka, no matter what he looks like, he feels like he  _ belongs. _ Like there’s finally an anchor to his existence, something holding him down to this world for which he used to feel he would never be a part of.

They work very well together, somehow. 

Iruka suggested they devise a special system of signs to recognize each other, instead of having Kakashi recount important events that only the two of them would know every single time they wanted to see each other. It does turn out extremely fun for both Iruka and Kakashi. They experiment with communication and also with their bodies, and each time it feels as if Kakashi sees Iruka anew — day after day, Iruka starts glowing stronger and stronger. 

Lately, even the knowledge that Kakashi’s around makes him shine and radiate that wonderful brightness.

This morning, Kakashi’s head’s resting on Iruka’s chest. He feels safe and warm, and he hasn’t opened his eyes yet, unwilling to emerge from the imaginary cocoon he feels he’s in. He shifts a little to get a feel for his body and is pleased to discover that it feels very  _ right  _ — his legs are dangling off the bed, which means he’s tall, and he feels at home in it. Iruka feels Kakashi move and stir, humming a little, sending a rumble through his chest like a pleased purring cat. Kakashi squeezes him some more, and Iruka gasps a breathy laugh.

“Hey, stranger,” he says, and Kakashi feels Iruka’s hand petting his head. “I love you.”

Kakashi stills. He hears Iruka’s heartbeat quicken, which must mean he’s nervous. After a couple of beats, Kakashi whispers. “I love you too,” he says. “I can’t really believe how lucky I am. Something must be wrong with you if you’ve kept me around for so long,” he chuckles and opens his eyes. He’s greeted with such a strong glow that he can only stare for many seconds, his eyes flitting back and forth from Iruka’s eyes to his hair and lips.

Iruka grins and pulls Kakashi in for a kiss. “Your hair’s white today, you know. Just like it was when we went on our first date.”

“Oh, really?” Kakashi says, getting up and stretching. “Am I hot?”

Iruka’s eyes roam over Kakashi’s body, but Kakashi doesn’t look down to get a look for himself. Instead, he only watches Iruka and the hunger that steadily grows in the man’s gaze. “Very much so. We’ll definitely have a lot of fun…  _ later,” _ he says and then pulls the cover back on his face. Kakashi snorts. Iruka is most definitely not a morning person.

“I’ll see what I can do to wake you up,” Kakashi says as he goes into the bathroom and puts toothpaste on his toothbrush. “You’ve never been able to resist me, and you know skill carries despi…” 

Kakashi drops the toothbrush in the sink, smearing toothpaste, when he looks at himself in the mirror.

It’s a face that’s both extremely familiar yet so very foreign, now. A face that he hasn’t seen for nine years, and the face that he had for the first eighteen years of his life. Kakashi runs a hand over his jaw, the mole on his chin, stares into  _ his own eyes _ for the first time in so long and chuckles in disbelief. His hair is still white, of course, due to a genetic defect, and it still sticks up at an odd angle,  _ not  _ due to a genetic defect — it’s something uniquely Kakashi.

His feet carry him back to the bedroom on their own, excitement evident in his voice when he exclaims, “Iruka, look! My body!” 

His eyes are closed in the widest smile he’s smiled since all this happened to him, maybe ever. When he opens them, he’s suddenly made aware of the fact that Iruka has  _ never _ glowed this strong in all the time Kakashi has known him. 

Iruka’s whole body is pulsing with a strong white light, and when he stands and meets Kakashi’s gaze, Kakashi notices Iruka’s irises have also disappeared. The stare that greets him is fully white, luminescent. 

As if in slow motion, Kakashi watches Iruka take measured steps towards him and reach out to grasp his shoulders. When Iruka touches him, the glow seems to ripple and stretch. It flows from Iruka’s arms to envelop Kakashi as well, and suddenly Kakashi experiences something so magical that there’s no denying this is part of the prophecy the fairy had spoken of all along. The silver glow around him feels warm, familiar, beautiful, wholly Iruka — it’s as if Kakashi is enveloped in Iruka’s essence, in  _ Iruka himself. _

The voice which Iruka then speaks in is not very human, slightly echoing. It sends shivers down Kakashi’s spine. “I had a vision,” deity-posessed-Iruka says, “and I know what all of this was.”

“What… was it?” Kakashi stammers out.

“Me and you — we are destined to be together,” Iruka says in that reverberating voice. “We have been chosen as the  _ anchor _ for the magical and non-magical world. We are a bridge,” he says.

“How do you know this… Iruka?” Kakashi’s  _ really  _ not sure this is Iruka he’s speaking to. 

“I had a vision… I can feel it. I, the magical counterpart…” he cuts off, staring into space for a while, and then comes back. “I, the magical counterpart, needed to choose and accept you, the non-magical counterpart… I glow because I am of the stars… You change bodies because you are of the Earth…” Iruka says and slumps down, the glow around them suddenly disappearing.

Kakashi catches Iruka in his arms, steadying him, and when he meets Iruka’s eyes he notices they’ve returned to normal. Iruka looks a little confused but straightens himself up soon enough. 

“Did this really just happen?” Iruka asks, blinking rapidly.

“I think it did,” Kakashi nods. “Also, hi, this is me,” he waves his lanky arms around, and then does a few jumps in place for good measure. He missed this body. 

Iruka just laughs and sits down, a little shaky. 

“So, what was that all about an anchor or bridge or something?”

“Oh—” Iruka says, his expression open and excited. “Well, it seems that I’ve also been a part of this whole magic thing as well. You apparently could notice my glow — which by the way, Kakashi, why have you never mentioned it — and I felt that inexplicable draw to you. But we still had to actually manage to find and accept each other, which meant that I had to learn how to love you despite the bodies you changed.”

“And the magical and non magical counterpart?”

“You know, my ‘vision’”, Iruka says, making air quotes, “was more like a sudden influx of knowledge. I didn’t feel any time passing, I don’t think I was consciously speaking, really. I just suddenly  _ knew _ all these things, as if I’d known them all along but had forgotten.” He scratches his head in thought. “I am the magical and otherworldly,” he repeats, “and you’re the humanly and ordinary. You represent it through your continuous changing and morphing through the forms of human existence. When we exchanged vows of true love, we passed the test and achieved the… prophetic union.”

“So  _ that’s  _ what this was all about?”

“Essentially, yes,” Iruka grins. “Apparently, though, we just saved the world, or at least restored some balance in it, or something. I didn’t really get that part.”

“Huh,” Kakashi says, ever eloquent, and pushes Iruka towards the bed. “Are you sufficiently awake now, after having saved the world? Can we get to some  _ fun,  _ as you put it, now that I have my body back?”

“Wait, one more thing — since I’m the magical counterpart, I think I can feel some… residue power in me. That silver glow, it amplifies emotions and subjective states.”

“So… you can manipulate people’s feelings and make them feel physical things stronger?”

“Oh, yes,” Iruka wriggles his fingers, light shifting around them. “I can do sex magic now,” he says, expression serene.

Kakashi gapes. This man was destined to be his, indeed.


End file.
